What was He Thinking? >>>
Imagine, if you will, someone being pulled, off guard, by your left hand, no make that arm, snapping your neck like a cracked whip and stumbling into a house, of course tripping over the door railings at the same time. It was something out of a slapstick, with a little bit of porno thrown in, Three Stooges movie. I fell on to my dude, made him fall as well and couldn’t stop laughing for about ten minutes, nor could he. All the while he was trying to yell at me for being an asshole, his words not mine, and my dick was still hanging out of pants, still hard.
He asked what the fuck I was doing pounding on his door when we were being watched. I told him I thought he was just a bit more paranoid than he should have been. It had been over a week and I figured the “investigation” was no longer hot enough to be important to anyone. Also, and the truth of the matter, I really didn’t care. If I did would I have been doing what I was doing? Of course not!
We were still lying on the floor by the undraped sliders when I reached over between his legs and began making him hard, too. He returned the favor, as I had hoped, and we just did what we normally did right there on the floor in front of the windows. I was so sexually in tune that when I finally got my dick in him it took only about a minute or two before I nutted. I didn’t want it to end so I told him to fuck me. I had never let him do that before, but this time I wanted it, and I know he did, too. It took a while before I could convince him, but, after greasing his big thick cock with Cool Whip and licking it for a bit, I coaxed him into me. Wow, what an intense felling that was. I had been taken before, but never with as much tenderness and force at the same time. I know that sounds odd, but I can describe it in no other manner. He slowly entered then built up steam in much the same way a train would do. I actually had to push him back a few times because he was too thick and it hurt. That’s something coming from a slutty little bitch like me.
Anyway, when we were done I could see the fear all over his face. Although it was one of the most exhilarating experiences of my life, I believe it may have traumatized him to no return. He apologized about twenty times within a span of ten minutes. He kept holding and petting me as if I were a dying pet. He gave me what seemed like a hundred little kisses on the top of my head. He kept rubbing my back and neck; actually I was starting to get hard again and was just about ready for round two. Just at that moment, he leapt up and said he thought he had heard something outside. I, of course, put it off as his paranoia. That was until I saw the beam of a flashlight play across the back lawn.
He ordered me to get down, which of course I found funny, then pushed me to the carpet, kind of roughly. The look in his eyes was that of the proverbial deer in the headlights. He then nudged me, with his head like an annoying cat trying to get attention, toward the back of the house. Although I knew why he was so weirded out, I still couldn’t wrap my mind around the reason he was SO afraid. For God’s sake, he wasn’t doing anything wrong, at least morally. I was the immoral one, and anyone who knew me would attest to that fact, except maybe my mother (though I am not really sure about her either). He was scrambling for his clothes with one hand and shoving me with the other while I was attempting to move where he wanted me. I was still naked myself but didn’t care about my clothing. Instead of playing along with him I just got up and walked back to my room. I heard him gasp then felt the air change behind me.
Then next thing I knew he was right behind me breathing so hard it made my skin crawl. He whispered hoarsely that I would not ruin his life anymore and that I would either do as he said or not have a life of my own. You all know how that was going to go with a person like me, and it did. I turned around with more anger than I think I had ever been able to muster and pushed him back against the other wall. I told him that he would never threaten me again if he knew what was good for him. I couldn’t fathom that fact that he would even think he could say something like that to me especially when he was so afraid of the legal issues surrounding our psuedo-relationship. For fuck sake, man, I held all the cards. But, for only the second time in my life, the first was when my mother went after that woman in the store many years before; I saw pure hatred in someone’s eyes.
This was definitely the end of what we had, but I was far from done with him. In fact, what I had planned was just beginning to take shape in my mind. Originally I wanted to help bring him out of his self-imposed prison and introduce him to life without fear of consequence. Now, I wanted to show him what true fear was REALLY all about. Oh yes, that was what he would know. Feeling him shake with anger as I held my hands to his neck, I stared directly into his eyes and just shook my head. I removed my hands and slowly walked away, not even giving him the satisfaction of looking back. I went back to the family room, collected my clothes (noticed I was incredibly hard), beat off quickly (leaving my nut on the floor), got dressed and left.
I heard his feeble call at my back but, not that I was going to acknowledge him anyway, was distracted by the dark shape on the lawn near the end of the driveway. I was not a person who ever really had any relationship with fear and this case was no different. In fact, it was a pure case of curiosity. I know what you are all thinking, and it is often true, but I couldn’t find any reason to believe in such bullshit. (Curiosity killed the cat and all…) I walked, cautiously (I said I had no fear not that I was stupid) toward the figure and he suddenly jumped my way. I knew in an instant who it was but couldn’t wrap my mind around why he was there. It was my old college boy from about four years before.
It must have been the utter confusion in my eyes that made he say the he, “Got,” me. I told him that was not the case but he continued on in the vein for some time. When I finally got him to stop, there was no way I was going to convince him he hadn’t done anything to scare me, so to speak, I pointedly asked him what the fuck he was doing there. He said he wanted to see what I was doing lately because he missed our times together and that he had been watching me for a while. I found this somewhat disconcerting, not because I was worried about implications with my dude, because I was being followed and had absolutely no inkling it was happening. I made a mental note to be a bit more diligent with regard to watching my own back.
He told me that he had been around the college again for a while, he had just graduated with his BA, and heard one of the professors was hooked up with some young boy. He further told me he figured it was probably me and had made it a point to find out. I felt his jealousy peeking back up but was intrigued enough to prod him to continue. He told me that he had never lost me but hadn’t really wanted to be too close. People talked about me constantly; therefore, it was never difficult to follow my general movements. As I have already told you I was never one to be sneaky so I was not surprised. AND, I knew I had a reputation, which I had built for myself, that preceded me everywhere I went, within certain circles at least. I guess that was what I got for my ostentatious car as well as my, “I don’t give a fuck,” attitude, but I still didn’t give a fuck and never would.
I was getting tired of the background bullshit and pushed him toward what had just happened. We were still standing in the drive so I began working toward my car. I asked him what he was trying to do sneaking around like that. There was no way he could have thought someone wouldn’t notice him. He told me that his intention was to BE seen because he knew I was there. In fact he said he had seen the entire thing since I started wanking, his word, at the back slider-door. I have to say, I was impressed with his spy tactics.
He asked what the fuck I was doing pounding on his door when we were being watched. I told him I thought he was just a bit more paranoid than he should have been. It had been over a week and I figured the “investigation” was no longer hot enough to be important to anyone. Also, and the truth of the matter, I really didn’t care. If I did would I have been doing what I was doing? Of course not!
We were still lying on the floor by the undraped sliders when I reached over between his legs and began making him hard, too. He returned the favor, as I had hoped, and we just did what we normally did right there on the floor in front of the windows. I was so sexually in tune that when I finally got my dick in him it took only about a minute or two before I nutted. I didn’t want it to end so I told him to fuck me. I had never let him do that before, but this time I wanted it, and I know he did, too. It took a while before I could convince him, but, after greasing his big thick cock with Cool Whip and licking it for a bit, I coaxed him into me. Wow, what an intense felling that was. I had been taken before, but never with as much tenderness and force at the same time. I know that sounds odd, but I can describe it in no other manner. He slowly entered then built up steam in much the same way a train would do. I actually had to push him back a few times because he was too thick and it hurt. That’s something coming from a slutty little bitch like me.
Anyway, when we were done I could see the fear all over his face. Although it was one of the most exhilarating experiences of my life, I believe it may have traumatized him to no return. He apologized about twenty times within a span of ten minutes. He kept holding and petting me as if I were a dying pet. He gave me what seemed like a hundred little kisses on the top of my head. He kept rubbing my back and neck; actually I was starting to get hard again and was just about ready for round two. Just at that moment, he leapt up and said he thought he had heard something outside. I, of course, put it off as his paranoia. That was until I saw the beam of a flashlight play across the back lawn.
He ordered me to get down, which of course I found funny, then pushed me to the carpet, kind of roughly. The look in his eyes was that of the proverbial deer in the headlights. He then nudged me, with his head like an annoying cat trying to get attention, toward the back of the house. Although I knew why he was so weirded out, I still couldn’t wrap my mind around the reason he was SO afraid. For God’s sake, he wasn’t doing anything wrong, at least morally. I was the immoral one, and anyone who knew me would attest to that fact, except maybe my mother (though I am not really sure about her either). He was scrambling for his clothes with one hand and shoving me with the other while I was attempting to move where he wanted me. I was still naked myself but didn’t care about my clothing. Instead of playing along with him I just got up and walked back to my room. I heard him gasp then felt the air change behind me.
Then next thing I knew he was right behind me breathing so hard it made my skin crawl. He whispered hoarsely that I would not ruin his life anymore and that I would either do as he said or not have a life of my own. You all know how that was going to go with a person like me, and it did. I turned around with more anger than I think I had ever been able to muster and pushed him back against the other wall. I told him that he would never threaten me again if he knew what was good for him. I couldn’t fathom that fact that he would even think he could say something like that to me especially when he was so afraid of the legal issues surrounding our psuedo-relationship. For fuck sake, man, I held all the cards. But, for only the second time in my life, the first was when my mother went after that woman in the store many years before; I saw pure hatred in someone’s eyes.
This was definitely the end of what we had, but I was far from done with him. In fact, what I had planned was just beginning to take shape in my mind. Originally I wanted to help bring him out of his self-imposed prison and introduce him to life without fear of consequence. Now, I wanted to show him what true fear was REALLY all about. Oh yes, that was what he would know. Feeling him shake with anger as I held my hands to his neck, I stared directly into his eyes and just shook my head. I removed my hands and slowly walked away, not even giving him the satisfaction of looking back. I went back to the family room, collected my clothes (noticed I was incredibly hard), beat off quickly (leaving my nut on the floor), got dressed and left.
I heard his feeble call at my back but, not that I was going to acknowledge him anyway, was distracted by the dark shape on the lawn near the end of the driveway. I was not a person who ever really had any relationship with fear and this case was no different. In fact, it was a pure case of curiosity. I know what you are all thinking, and it is often true, but I couldn’t find any reason to believe in such bullshit. (Curiosity killed the cat and all…) I walked, cautiously (I said I had no fear not that I was stupid) toward the figure and he suddenly jumped my way. I knew in an instant who it was but couldn’t wrap my mind around why he was there. It was my old college boy from about four years before.
It must have been the utter confusion in my eyes that made he say the he, “Got,” me. I told him that was not the case but he continued on in the vein for some time. When I finally got him to stop, there was no way I was going to convince him he hadn’t done anything to scare me, so to speak, I pointedly asked him what the fuck he was doing there. He said he wanted to see what I was doing lately because he missed our times together and that he had been watching me for a while. I found this somewhat disconcerting, not because I was worried about implications with my dude, because I was being followed and had absolutely no inkling it was happening. I made a mental note to be a bit more diligent with regard to watching my own back.
He told me that he had been around the college again for a while, he had just graduated with his BA, and heard one of the professors was hooked up with some young boy. He further told me he figured it was probably me and had made it a point to find out. I felt his jealousy peeking back up but was intrigued enough to prod him to continue. He told me that he had never lost me but hadn’t really wanted to be too close. People talked about me constantly; therefore, it was never difficult to follow my general movements. As I have already told you I was never one to be sneaky so I was not surprised. AND, I knew I had a reputation, which I had built for myself, that preceded me everywhere I went, within certain circles at least. I guess that was what I got for my ostentatious car as well as my, “I don’t give a fuck,” attitude, but I still didn’t give a fuck and never would.
I was getting tired of the background bullshit and pushed him toward what had just happened. We were still standing in the drive so I began working toward my car. I asked him what he was trying to do sneaking around like that. There was no way he could have thought someone wouldn’t notice him. He told me that his intention was to BE seen because he knew I was there. In fact he said he had seen the entire thing since I started wanking, his word, at the back slider-door. I have to say, I was impressed with his spy tactics.
posted by johnathan e | 6:45 PM
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